Come lie with me

Chapter 9

Two days later, Mark Sloan was in the attending's lounge pulling on his boots. He was hurrying, and probably would have made the process go faster if he didn't keep looking at his watch. When the door to the lounge opened, Mark looked up, only to quickly duck his head again.

"Hey," Derek said, coming in the door, and walking over the pot of stale coffee on the sideboard.

Mark grunted in greeting, pulling on his other boot.

"I haven't seen you since Mom left," Derek commented. "You been busy?"

"Yeah," Mark answered, standing and shrugging on his jacket.

"With what?" Derek asked, leaning against the counter.

"Look, Derek," Mark said dryly. "I'd love to stay and chat, oh wait, no I wouldn't." He then zipped up his jacket.

"What's with you?" Derek asked.

Mark shook his head. "You always do this."

"Do what?"

"Pretend that nothing happened when we have a fight," Mark said, patting his pockets to make sure he had his keys. "The only time I have ever seen you show any emotion was when you…"

"Caught you with my wife?" Derek asked, humor in his voice.

"Yeah, that," Mark muttered. His cell phone vibrated, and Mark pulled it out to check it. It had a text message from Lexie: Almost ready? Mark quickly texted her back in the affirmative, and began to leave. "Gotta go."

"Where are you going?" Derek asked. "I thought we could go to the Emerald City Bar."

"I don't have time to go to Joe's, Derek," Mark said. "I am busy."

"Doing what?"

"Jesus, what are you, my mother?" Mark snapped. "I am moving, alright?"

"What? Back to New York?" Derek looked surprised, and was no longer leaning against the counter.

"No, into an apartment," Mark said, trying to ignore that part of him that wanted to include Derek.

"I get off in an hour," Derek said. "I can help you move."

"I don't need your help," Mark said shortly. "I'm fine." He then walked over to the door, and opened it.

"Mark," Derek called. "Come on, I am sure you could use an extra pair of arms. Where are you even moving to?"

Mark shook his head. "No, you don't get to do this. You don't get to be my friend and my keeper. Since you are so involved in what I can and cannot do, why don't you make a list for me," Mark said, bitterness in his voice. "I am sure that will clear a lot of things up for me."

"Come on, Mark," Derek said. "That's not fair."

"Life rarely is, Derek." Mark then turned and left the room. There was a deep regret in all that he could not share with his best friend, and Mark wished that things were different. But at the same time, he had no desire to sit through his friend's deep disapproval. He didn't want Derek to tarnish what he had with Lexie. As he rode in the elevator to the lobby, Mark wondered if this was how it was going to be. Would Derek miss all of these important moments because of his disapproval over Lexie? Mark thought he might as well tell Derek and be done with it. But it wasn't that simple. He remembered the previous night when he had this very conversation with Lexie.

***

They had been in her apartment, packing up her clothes. Mark had been looking around the living room, with distaste on his face. "Please tell me we don't have to take any of this stuff."